


Hit Me With Your Best Shot

by MusicalLuna



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Exasperated Tony Stark, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Impaling, Multi, POV Tony Stark, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Steve Rogers, Protectiveness, in the leg!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-12-06 06:06:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11594490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicalLuna/pseuds/MusicalLuna
Summary: Tony's boyfriends are very protective and don't take it well when he's injured in the field.





	Hit Me With Your Best Shot

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous asked:  
> My ex-boyfriend (who broke up with me) is mad because I don't want to be friends, My best friend bailed on me even tho I haven't seen him in 2 months, I failed a chem test, an ASL test and an English Socratic Seminar today and I have to go to school tomorrow. It's been a hectic day. If you have the time (and energy def don't feel pressured!!) I'd love a hurt/comfort Stucky or Stony fic please (or Bucky/Steve/Tony)  
> \--  
> that is a huge pile of shitty anon, i’m sorry!

“All right, Iron Man, back in the air,” Steve calls and Tony does a silly salute even though he doesn’t think Steve can see him from where he is.

“Upsie daisy,” he calls in return. He’s barely lifted off when something hits him in the right thigh with a loud crunch. Pain spikes all the way down to his toes and up into his hip. The shock knocks him off kilter. He cries out, but it’s more out of shock than anything.

“Tony?!” he hears someone yell, but the view on the HUD is spinning and that’s more important than whoever’s yelling at him.

“Sir, you’ve taken a hit—”

“ _No shit!_ ” Tony yells back breathlessly.

He flings out his arms, trying to stabilize the suit’s flight but something keeps yanking him out of sorts. For a split second he catches sight of a light post in his wildly gyrating field of vision and he grabs for it. The gauntlets grapple for a hold on it, but he can’t get a good grip and—

He hears Bucky give an enraged bellow and then all at once he feels whatever’s got tension on his leg snap.

The HUD starts flashing red as he plummets toward the street below.

“JARVIS!”

“ _Sir, I can't—!_ ”

Impact jars his leg, and for a minute the whole world whites out.

When he comes back to, the first thing he hears is a lot of yelling. Sounds like Steve and Bucky.

“—get him out of the damned thing now!” Bucky is shouting, voice bubbling over with fury.

“It could be protecting him, Buck, we’re not just going to tear it off him!” Steve barks back.

The HUD is showing the underside of his chin and the blue sky overhead and Tony slowly pieces together that he’s sprawled across Steve’s lap. In the  _suit._

He groans and tries to shift off of him. Super soldier or no, the Iron Man suit with him in it weighs close to five hundred pounds and that’s a lot of pressure on human tissue.

Steve’s head snaps down, his blue eyes wide and fearful. “Tony?”

“Mmyeah,” Tony manages, “Mhere. Mgood, ’m fine. Lemme up before you crush something.”

“Like hell,” Bucky snarls and then he’s visible, too, his black smudged eyes furious behind his mask. “You’ve got a goddamned  _harpoon_  in your leg.

Tony blinks up at the sky, trying to process that. “JARVIS?”

“Sir,” JARVIS says, and there’s relief in his voice. “Sergeant Barnes is correct. You were hit by the harpoon in your right vastus medialus. The assailants were attempting to pull you back via a steel cable attached to the end of the harpoon when the Sergeant cut the cable. The power to the right boot was cut and I could not stabilize flight before you were caught by Captain Rogers.”

Tony turns his head to stare incredulously at Steve, who immediately blushes under his scrutiny, his eyes skittering away down the street. “The suit is  _built_  for impact, Steve!  _You are not!_ ”

“I did just fine,” Steve replies. His eyes come back, worried, when he says, “I saw you falling and I—” His voice chokes off and Tony softens, his irritation fizzling out.

“I’m fine,” Tony assures him, cupping the back of his neck. Then he pauses and glances down at the inch-thick metal bar still protruding from his thigh. “I am fine, aren’t I, JARVIS?”

He can feel Bucky hovering over the two of them, pacing back and forth and muttering furiously under his breath. He’s shockingly prone to fretting. When Tony had asked Steve about it, he’d rolled his eyes and grumbled, “Yeah, Buck’s always been that way.”

“I would not call your current state of being ‘fine’, sir, but with medical treatment, you will recover fully.”

“All right, I want the suit off!” Bucky bursts, stomping into view. “I wanna see your face. Can’t tell if you’re bullshitting me like this.”

“He’s not,” Steve says, and his voice is calm, but he’s running his hands over the suit—over spots where there are hidden catches, and Tony can tell he’s just as anxious.

Tony is only a little disgruntled when JARVIS replies, “You may remove everything, but the right leg. It is needed to stabilize the impaled object.”

“Done,” Bucky growls and starts peeling back the shoulder pauldron.

“Aw, come on, no!” Tony protests over the screech of the metal and Steve gently beats back Bucky’s hand.

“There are lock catches, Jesus, Bucky. The suit costs billions of dollars don’t wreck it anymore than it already is.”

Bucky makes a series of grouchy noises, but he starts using the catches Steve points out. The two of them make quick work of the suit and Tony eyes the pile of components now heaped on the street next to them woefully.

Steve—who’s lap he is still occupying—sets the last piece down and then tips his head forward, pressing his face into the crook of Tony’s neck, his hand moving to splay across the arc reactor. Bucky, meanwhile, has gotten to his knees and is gingerly running his hands over every bit of Tony he can reach, his eyes sharp. “It hurts?” he asks gruffly and Tony shakes his head, feels his hair catch in Steve’s.

“Not at the moment actually. Adrenaline is a beautiful thing.”

“Isn’t going to last,” Bucky mutters grimly.

“Let me have my peace while it does,” Tony chides. He reaches back and ruffles Steve’s hair. “Ease up, huh, honey? You’re making my ribs ache.” He sighs when Steve lets go of him like he’s been burned. “I said ease up, not let go.”

Bucky, however, takes this to mean he should inspect Tony’s ribs more closely and he hikes up Tony’s t-shirt, much to his irritation. He can practically hear Steve’s internal monologue of self-recrimination and that’s  _not helping._

“Will you knock it off,” he demands, shoving his shirt back down. “He didn’t do anything wrong and my ribs are fine, cut it out.”

He wants to hold onto his anger—Bucky is completely overbearing when he gets hurt. But Bucky sits back on his haunches and tilts his face down even while he maintains eye contact, loose strands of hair falling over his forehead. “I know you’re not—fragile,” he says and Tony’s mouth thins. Bucky raises his chin, a defiant glint in his eye. “But you’re no super soldier and it’s scary, all right? It’s scary seeing you go down and not knowing if you’ll be able to get up again. So I know we go a little overboard, but just—cut us a little slack, okay? Me 'n Steve—we lost everybody. And I don’t think either of us thinks we can do it again.”

Steve’s hands flex around Tony’s hips before loosening again immediately.

Tony sighs and reaches out, hauling Bucky forward with just the gesture until he can get a hold of one of the straps on his tac vest. He presses his forehead to Bucky’s and Bucky’s stern expression crumples, his hands coming up to cup Tony’s face. “I am cutting you slack, Buster. I’d have dumped anyone else out on the street for pulling shit like this. If I tell you I’m good, I’m good, and I expect you to listen to me.”

He feels Steve put his forehead down between Tony’s shoulderblades and he mumbles, “Unless you’ve been on an engineering bender.”

Smothering his exasperation, Tony amends, “Unless I’ve been on an engineering bender.”

“Or you appear to have sustained a head injury,” Bucky says and Tony backs off far enough to give him a look.

“What?” Bucky says, jaw setting mulishly. “It’s not always immediately apparent  _how_  you’re hurt and if you can’t assess your injuries accurately—”

“JARVIS can,” Tony cuts in, voice hard.

Bucky glances away, but he mutters right along with Steve, “Yes, sir.”

Their acquiescence makes a shiver skate down Tony’s spine. That makes his leg twinge. The adrenaline’s fading.

Now that he’s cleared that up, he slumps forward, resting his head on Bucky’s chest. “Can I see a doctor now? Preferably before I  _really_  start feeling it.”

“Anything you want, doll,” Bucky says and, after pressing a quick kiss to Tony’s lips, pushes to his feet.

“We’ve got you,” Steve murmurs, and Tony feels his lips on the back of his neck. He closes his eyes.

“I know.”


End file.
